Isaac sat on the edge of his bed, the room bathed in the dim light of a simple lamp. The soft hum of the ceiling fan was the only sound that filled the silence.

He glanced at the framed photo on his nightstand — one of him and his new girlfriend, a girl from his biology class who had no idea he was a werewolf.

He’d moved on, or at least, that’s what he told himself. He was trying to forget the lingering echoes of his past, but every now and then, those echoes were louder than he’d like.

He could still remember the way you’d laugh at his jokes, the way your eyes would light up when you saw him, the way you smelled, the way you tasted—

It was all too vivid. Too fresh. Even now.

The two of you had been something once — nothing too serious, just a fling that neither of you had really defined. He’d been drawn to you, maybe more than he’d admitted at the time.

But things had changed, and he’d felt a pull toward someone else. Not that he liked her more — no one could compare to you — but he liked the idea of being with someone who didn’t know his secrets or his fears.

Meanwhile, you were at the local café, nursing a cup of coffee that had gone cold. You’d spent the morning with a book, but no matter how engrossed you became in the plot, your mind kept drifting back to Isaac.

The way he looked at you with those eyes, the warmth of his touch, the way he could make you feel like you were the only person in the world.

One evening, while walking through the park, he spotted you from a distance. You were sitting on a bench, looking lost in thought. He hesitated but felt a pull to come closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying not to startle you.

You looked up, your eyes meeting his, a painful silence hanging between you.